Home Again Home Again
by MaddieyOfTheQuill
Summary: I have nothing. You have me. Yes, I do have you. But I fear that someday that might not be enough. What could have happened to one of the characters after the curtain goes down. All characters belong to Agatha Christie.
1. Prologue

SPOILER ALERT!!!!!!

If you have not read or seen The Mousetrap, do not scroll any further. Whenever you go and see it they ask you not to reveal the ending. I don't want to be the one to do it. You have been warned. I also ask you to do the same and not reveal the ending.

Disclaimer.

I do not own The Mousetrap, no matter how much I want to. All characters belong to their rightful owner.

This is the story about what happened to the killer after the play ends. I am not particularly familiar with British law during the nineteen fifties, so don't be mad if that isn't very accurate.

Prologue: What made Georgie the way he is.

She was walking down the streets of London. She was a woman of roughly thirty years. She had dark, curly hair that she wore at shoulder length. She had on a grey dress and a dark overcoat. She wore glasses. Her name was Katherine. She was going to visit her brother, Georgie.

When they were children, Katherine, George, and their little brother Jimmy were sent to live on a farm with the married couple who lived there. The couple beat, starved, and neglected the children. Jimmy wrote to his teacher, begging for help, but his letter was never answered. Eventually, Jimmy died from the abuse. Georgie vowed he would kill everyone responsible. Katherine hadn't realized how serious this threat actually was.

Katherine and George were adopted by separate families. The courts sent the farm couple to prison. The man died there, but the woman served her sentence and was released. Georgie found her. Georgie killed her. Georgie found the woman responsible for sending them to the farm. Georgie killed her too. Georgie found the teacher who never answered Jimmy's letter. Georgie tried to kill her. Katherine found him. Katherine stopped him. The courts sent Georgie to the Dickens Memorial Mental Institution. Which is where Katherine was bound that afternoon.


	2. Are you mad?

Chapter 1: Are you mad?

She entered the building. One of the workers unlocked the door that led to the rooms. She walked up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway until she came to room 376. She knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She opened the door and entered the room. It was small and simply furnished. There was a bed, a desk, a chair, and a bookshelf. No windows. At the end of the room was a door that led to a bathroom. Georgie was sitting on the bed, his face buried in a book. He was dark-haired, thin, and very tall. He wore tan trousers, a blue and white striped button shirt, and spectacles for reading.

"Georgie." said his sister. He looked up and smiled.

"Hello Kathy."

"How are you today?" Katherine was often afraid to ask this. George sometimes reacted badly. Once in a while he would even drop what he was doing and just sit weeping.

"Fine. I've been reading Hamlet," he said, holding up his book, "A story of love, betrayal, … revenge,… and murder." His smile faded.

"George, you really shouldn't think about such things." replied Kathy, sitting down on the bed next to her brother.

"Why on earth not?"

"Because it just upsets you," she said, very concerned, "You mustn't dwell on it. It was years ago."

"Mustn't dwell on it?" asked George, his voice full of anger, "Mustn't dwell on it? Look around, Katherine! Look at where I am! I'm in a madhouse! And why am I here? Because I'm crazy. Because I killed three people."

"You know perfectly well that you didn't kill Mrs. Ralston." argued Kathy.

"Well I certainly tried to." he said, standing, "I killed two women and I tried to kill a third. As if that's any better. And I would have killed her if you hadn't been there to stop me. And I would have enjoyed killing her. I enjoyed killing Mrs. Boyle and Mrs. Stanning. That's the most frightening part. That I'm crazy enough to actually like killing people."

"You're not crazy," reasoned Katherine, "Not anymore. Yes, you were mad back then, but you're not now. What's come over you, Georgie?"

"Mad people don't stop being mad," said George, "Once you go insane, you stay that way forever. I was mad then, I'm mad now, and I will be mad for the rest of my life." He sat back down on the bed.

Katherine stared at her brother in shock. He had never talked about this before. Sure, they had discussed the crimes, the motive, what happened all those years go on the farm, but never this. She hadn't known that he felt this way.

"Georgie," Katherine said slowly, "how long have you been thinking bout this?"

"Years." said George, staring at the floor, "Since I first came here, I suppose."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

George finally looked at her, tears in his eyes and a pained expression upon his face.

"I couldn't. Not until I was sure you weren't angry with me anymore."

"Georgie, I was never angry with you," said Kathy.

"Of course you were. How could you not be. The only brother you have left, a murderer. You had every right to be angry."

"All right, I was angry," Katherine admitted, feeling ashamed, "But I'm not anymore. And I never stopped loving you. You should have told me. I would have understood."

"That's just it, Kathy," George almost laughed, "You wouldn't have understood. In fact, you don't understand now. You aren't the one who has to live here. The one who, every day, has to see crazy people who are not getting any better. The one who has to realize that you're one of them. Do you realize that I'll never have a wife? Or children? I'll never even have sex. You could have all of that. You have choices. You have a future. I have nothing.

"You have me." said Katherine, moving closer to her brother.

"You're right," said George, "I do have you. And I love you. And I love being around you. But someday I fear that it might not be enough.

George once again picked up his book and resumed reading.

"I think you should go." he said.

"All right," said Kathy standing up, "May I come back tomorrow?"

"Of course," her brother replied, never taking his eyes off the page.

"Well then, goodbye, Georgie. I love you."

"I love you too."

And with that, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Once he was certain she was gone, Georgie dropped the book, laid down on the bed, and cried.


End file.
